


Forgive

by Lexzandrihya



Series: Forgiveness [1]
Category: The Old Guard (Comics), The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Booker Loves Joe, Booker Loves Nicky, Booker Was Forced To Betray The Team, Booker gets a hug, Booker is a Bi Disaster, Booker is a disaster, Booker needs Love, Booker | Sebastien le Livre Needs Therapy, Booker | Sebastien le Livre Needs a Hug, Booker | Sebastien le Livre Whump, Depressed Booker | Sebastien le Livre, Developing Relationship, Everyone Needs A Hug, Everyone Needs Therapy, Exiled Booker | Sebastien le Livre, Happy Ending, Heavy Angst, Insecure Booker | Sebastien le Livre, Insecure Nicky | Nicolò di Genova, Joe Is Lost For Words, Joe loves Booker, Joe loves Nicky, Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani Needs a Hug, Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani Whump, Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani is an Incurable Romantic, Love Confessions, Misunderstandings, Multi, Nicky | Nicolò di Genova Loves Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani, Nicky | Nicolò di Genova Needs a Hug, Nicky | Nicolò di Genova Whump, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, Requited Love, Sad Booker | Sebastien le Livre, Sort Of, thats all i have to say
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-18 01:15:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 16,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29109903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lexzandrihya/pseuds/Lexzandrihya
Summary: Previously titled Forgiveness.As Joe walked up the steps, away from the beach and Booker, he turned to look at him once more.The complete anguish that he saw Sebastien try and hide broke his heart.What were they doing? How had they come to this decision? How could he be so blinded by anger that he could think that he would be able to leave his Sebastien alone for two centuries? And think that even after a century, he would still be unable to forgive the man that he claimed to love.OrJoe has second thoughts before abandoning Booker. But Nicky is still furious.A story about misunderstandings insecurity, lack of communication and a lot more.
Relationships: Booker | Sebastien le Livre/Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani, Booker | Sebastien le Livre/Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolo di Genova, Booker | Sebastien le Livre/Nicky | Nicolo di Genova, Everyone & Everyone, Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Series: Forgiveness [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2150652
Comments: 153
Kudos: 74





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Westlife264](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Westlife264/gifts).



> Thank you to Westlife264 for helping me with this! Couldn't have done it without you!  
> This is for you!

As Joe walked up the steps, away from the beach and Booker, he turned to look at him once more. 

The complete anguish that he saw Sebastien try and hide broke his heart. 

What were they doing? How had they come to this decision? How could he be so blinded by anger that he could think that he would be able to leave his Sebastien alone for two centuries? And think that even after a century, he would still be unable to forgive the man that he claimed to love. 

Yusuf spun on his foot and ran. He ran towards Sebastien and collided with him. Yusuf embraced him tightly. The way he should have when he’d seen him in Makarresh. The way he should have every time he saw Sebastien. Even when he refused to join their travels.

Sebastien stiffened in Yusuf’s arms. He couldn’t understand why Yusuf would be hugging him. It hadn’t been a hundred years, hell, it had barely been a hundred seconds. 

“I’m sorry.” He heard Yusuf mumble into his neck as his tears began to soak Sebastien’s shirt. 

He was supposed to be alone for a century. He couldn’t feel Yusuf’s embrace now only to lose it moments later, the way he had so many times before. The only difference that made this unbearable, was that he would lose it for what seemed to be an eternity.

“Let go of me!” He yelled. “Let go!” His voice softened slightly as he added, “You always do.”

This is where they’d gone wrong, Yusuf realised. They had never told Booker that they would always be there for him. That his presence was valued. That their life without them was incomplete. But then again, they had just let Andy tell him that he would be alone for a century. 

Joe held the struggling man in his arms and silently promised to never let him go. 

Nicolo caught his eye. They, unlike always, were not on the same page. 

Nicolo could not, would not forgive Sebastien. His anger burned slow and long and hadn’t even reached its peak. 

Yusuf begged with his eyes. Begged Nicolo to show some mercy, some kindness to the man they had professed their love for. The man that, he realised, didn't believe them. Had… always doubted them. 

Nicolo shook his head, turned sharply and walked away. Cautiously, Andy walked towards the two men and placed a hand on the small of Sebastien’s back. 

He instantly melted. Collapsed in Joe’s arms, knees too weak to keep him upright. 

Neither Yusuf nor Andromache let him fall. They caught him in a manner they had never cared to before. 

Silent tears were running down his face and he mouthed ‘I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.’ 

When finally he spoke, voice thick and broken with the weight of his tears, he begged. “Don't leave me alone.” 

“Never.”

They returned to the safe house a little less and a little more fractured than they had been when they left.

Nicolo refused to speak to Yusuf, not understanding how he cared so little for his feelings that he would allow the traitor to be amongst them. Nicolo didn't realise that by abandoning Sebastien, they were doing to him what had been done upon them. Albeit, a torture of a different kind.

Yusuf felt his heart break a little more, every time he was ignored by Nicolo, but didn't allow himself to wallow in it. He needed time. His Nicolo had never been quick to forgive. And this time would be no different. 

Upon reaching the safehouse, Yusuf pulled Sebastien into his and Nicolo’s room. As furious as they were with each other, they had never slept apart. 

He laid the taller man down and wrapped his arms around him, holding him in the same embrace that he had held Nicolo in for the past nine hundred years. 

Sebastien had never felt safer, more at peace than he had when Yusuf wrapped his arms around him. He wanted to be held tighter, but hesitated to ask but requested it anyway. Yusuf’s arms tightened around him. 

Sebastien closed his eyes and slept. 

Slept without the dreams of Russia, of Quynh or of the many horrific images that ran through his mind. Instead, he dreamt of a life where he could be happy, where he could be held and loved. 

-lex- 

Nicky climbed into bed behind his husband, trying not to look at the other man in joes arms, in the place Nicky had spent the past eight hundred years.

"Hold me tighter?" He heard Sebastian mumble, as he settled down himself. Watching as his husband’s body moulded itself more around the other man was pure torture for Nicolo.

Nicky reached out, wanting to hold him, it had taken over two decades for Joe to forgive Nicky and hold him like that. And here he was, wrapping himself around someone who not only hurt him but also Nicky as if nothing had happened. 

Did Joe really think that little of him? Did he really love Booker more than him? 

It had only been a few days and Nicky still had nightmares of Joe being tied down. Both of them helpless as they watched each other get cut open and die, again and again, and again innumerable times.

Pulling his hand back, Nicky turned his back to Joe, wiping the tears from his eyes, tucking his knees to his chest. Nicky longed for Joe, who was so close yet felt so far at that moment.

He and Joe had discussed Booker joining their relationship more than once before they had asked him too. Both of them loved him as much as they did each other and both of them had assured the other that nothing would change between them. Nicky had meant what he said, but for the first time in eight centuries, he doubted his Yusuf’s word. Because he and Sebastien had so much more in common, they both loved football, both were outgoing. Nicky was just the shy one who enjoyed books and cooking, someone who didn't understand a word when Joe would talk about football. This was the first time he’d ever felt like this. And he didn't know how to deal with it.

Of course, Joe would turn to Sebastian, feeling as though he would be more connected to the other man.

Hugging his knees tight, Nicky buried his face in a pillow, keeping his tears quiet, hoping that Joe would turn and comfort and reassure him like he always did. 

Nicky waited, the tears flowing faster. He waited and waited, but Joe didn't turn. Nicolo knew that he hadn’t even realised his distress. 

For the first time in so many years, Nicky cried himself to sleep. As Joe happily snuggled into another man. 

-lex-

Yusuf knew exactly when Nicolo moved from wanting to embrace him, to turning around and trying to stifle his tears. 

He would always know when his Nicolo was in pain. 

He wanted to turn and hold him, hold them both, but at that moment, Sebastien needed his full attention. He hoped that Nicolo would understand.

Turning a little, he placed his hand on the small of Nicolo’s back. That yielded no reaction from the former crusader, but Sebastien began to whimper at the loss of contact. Yusuf turned back to him, hoping, praying that Nicolo would forgive him.

-lex

Sebastien woke hours later, still in Yusuf’s arms. 

“I’m sorry.” He whispered into Yusuf’s chest. 

“Why?” 

“I just wanted it to end.” 

“So that was worth sacrificing us all?” Nicolo barked from behind him. His fury rang throughout the room. The heat behind his words was unbearable. 

A fit of anger overtook him. How dare they think that he would be so willing to betray them? How dare they? 

So he told them everything. He told them of how Copley had approached him with his findings and when he had attempted to kill him, Copley had told him that Merrick knew that they existed. How he practically threatened and forced him to turn himself in. How that if he told anyone else they would take them all. Booker told them that he had requested for a mission so that he could see them all again because he couldn’t just ask too. When had they ever gathered for no apparent reason?

Sebastien told them of how he supposed that the arrangement had an advantage for him. He meant it when he said 'what would you know of the weight of all these years alone'. Yes, Yusuf and Nicolo were enemies, yes they had hurt each other in numerous, horrific ways, but at the end of the day, they had each other and did not have to go on living without the crucial piece of their heart.

Yusuf saw something break inside Nicolo, though his mask remained firmly in place. He was not going to forgive Sebastien anytime soon. 

“The exile isn’t off.” He warned Booker as he left the room. Nicolo glanced at his husband as he left and Yusuf knew that he had a choice to make here. And he had made it. 

Nicky's words wouldn't stop ringing in his head. "The exile isn't off." 

He was still going to be left alone. 

He didn't know why Yusuf was showing him such grace, but he was somewhat grateful for it. If only he could figure out why. 

Sebastien knew he had to leave.

When he told the others that, Yusuf and Andromache exchanged a glance.

They had discussed this, Sebastien realised.

But before either of them could say anything, Nicky grumbled: "Yes, yes you do. Leave as soon as possible."

Sebastien closed his eyes, turned and walked out of the kitchen, and into his room. The one he had been sharing with Joe. 

He quickly began separating his and Joe's things, dumping his into a backpack. 

He didn't notice Yusuf enter the room but did notice when he began picking up his own stuff.

"I'm coming with you." He said, voice a little shaky. Before Booker could ask "why?" Joe continued, "We aren't meant to be alone. Not even you. Especially not you." 

“Nicky?”

Joe glanced out the side of his eye at Booker. He wanted to say that he was surprised that Booker would ask. That he would question why. Because after all, they all were lovers. Had been for years. This was just a testament to how much Sebastien had been both apart and a part of and from them. 

“Sebastien, I love you. And I love Nicolo as well. But right now, you need me more. And Nicolo can't see that. But he will.” Joe said with a conviction that he wasn't sure was sincere. But Sebastien needed him.

They left the house less than an hour later. 

Yusuf tried to embrace and kiss Nicolo in goodbye, but was turned away. “Please understand.” He whispered to Nicky. “Please.” But his request yielded no response. 

So for the first time in their relationship, Yusuf and Nicolo parted on less than ideal terms.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OML!!! I did not expect the response that I got for the last chapter! Thank you all for the encouragement! Hope you guys like this as well!

By unspoken agreement, Joe and Booker settled down in Paris. The flight there was less than an hour and a half long, but to them, it could have been a century and a half. 

Booker was nervous. Incredibly so. Yusuf, sitting beside him could feel it pulse in rhythm with his heartbeat. 

Once the flight began taxing, Joe lifted the armrest that separated them and leaned into Booker. He needed to give Sebastien the reassurance that he wasn't alone, and he also needed to be reassured, that while he didn't have Nicky at this point, he still did have one remnant of his recognisable life. 

The past week had changed everything. He wondered that if he and Nicolo had been more clear about the fact that they wanted Sebastien to join them on the travels, would he have been found by Copley? Been threatened. Maybe yes. Maybe Copley would have found them. Maybe he would have threatened all three of them. But at least then they could have fought. Yusuf knew without a doubt that he would have fought for both of them. And Nicolo would have too. For it that had happened his anger would have been directed at Copley and not Sebastien. 

What Yusuf didn't realise was that while Nicky was angry, he was also hurt. Hurt bloomed into insecurity, which blossomed into jealousy, all within the span of seconds it took Yusuf to let go of his anger and forgive Booker. Nicolo had not seen the agony that appeared on his face when he knew that he was to be left in his own solitude. With his own solitude for company. 

“Why are you here with me?” Booker murmured in the slightly broken Arabic he had learnt by listening to Yusuf and Nicolo speak. 

Joe realised that this was yet another reason that Sebastien could have felt isolated from them; they had never bothered to teach him the language that they used most. In fact, they had always spoken Arabic on the nights that he would join them and yet, had never bothered to teach him. 

“I told you, My Heart, we aren’t meant to be alone.”

“But I hurt you.” He paused and looked down, voice softening in sorrow. “I hurt Nicky.”

Joe sighed. He wanted so badly to tell Sebastien that he hadn’t hurt him, hadn’t hurt Nicky, but that lie would only cause both of them more distress. 

“You hurt us, yes-Basti, look at me, no one can deny it. You hurt us. But we hurt you too. Our silence, our words, our actions and inactions.”

“Aleamal waltaqaeus?” Booker whispered, not understanding the phrase.

“Actions and inactions.” Joe replied in English. “You look tried, My love, sleep. We will talk more at home. 

Sebastien didn't reply and tried to show nothing outwards, but his eyes held just a flicker of the joy that he felt in his heart when Joe called him ‘My Love’.

-lex- 

“Hey, Nicky.” Andy breathed in a very un Andromache like fashion. 

“I’m fine!” Nicolo roared before she could say anything else. 

“Are you?” Andy huffed, raising an eyebrow pointedly. When he didn't say anything, Andy continued, “Look at yourself. You are not fine.”

“I’m fine.” Although, this time his voice was almost broken.

“Why are you so upset?”

Nicolo didn't know what to reply. He didn't know how to say what he felt without Andy thinking even less of him than she already did. 

Andy exhaled harshly. She knew that when Nicolo closed up completely, he wouldn't share anything. But Andy knew what was wrong. Nicolo was her younger brother and she knew him better than he knew himself and possibly even a little better than Yusuf did. For she was removed from the tight equation that her three brothers found themselves in. 

“Well then, I want to see what Nile can do. Join me?” She figured that it would be better to keep Nicky in her line of sight until she was sure he wouldn't do anything stupid. 

Nile fought well. Well, she fought well for a mortal. According to Andy, she knew the basics. 

-lex- 

Sebastien owned a house in the Canal Saint-Martin neighbourhood. It was rather quaint. Small enough that everyone knew everyone. The house that they lived in had been empty for a long time. 

Their neighbours were rather friendly. They introduced themselves the very day that they arrived. Yusuf introduced them as a couple. He reasoned that it would be much more normal. His heart ached, for he had only ever introduced Nicolo and himself as a couple. But never the three of them as men in a relationship.

It had always been him and Nicky. Sebastien was always separate, an afterthought. 

They had made so many mistakes. And yet they blamed him for feeling the way he did, and doing what he did. 

Not for the first time, a wave of relief washed over Yusuf, that he had not left Sebastien at the beach that day. He only wished that Nicolo would understand and come find them soon. 

-lex- 

About two weeks after Yusuf and Sebastien left, did Nicolo finally breakdown. The constant heartache of being left by Yusuf finally got to him. 

The first time they married each other all those centuries ago, with the stars and the moon as witness, both of them swore to each other that they would always love, cherish and protect the other. That they would live and die together for however long they were allowed to. 

He never expected that their vows would not be upheld. 

That all it took for a relationship lasting almost nine centuries to break and burn in such a way, was Sebastien. 

Just at that moment, he began to hate Sebastien. Despise him with a passion that he knew not he was capable of. For Sebastien had taken his Yusuf away from him.

Nicolo knew not that if he were to just travel the four hundred and eighty-odd kilometres to Paris, he would be welcomed, with not one, but two pairs of open arms. 

For Sebastien’s guilt was not only for what he put Yusuf and Nicolo through but also for the anguish that he was witnessing on Joe’s face every time Nicolo came up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lemme know if there is any way in which I can improve!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well... Here's an update! Thank you to Westlife264 for an idea for this chapter. 
> 
> Warning for language. Like one word... In the first paragraph... Also for extremely inaccurate historical references, (I haven't studied history and where I live, history classes doesn't go back further than ww2)
> 
> Hope y'all like this. I had a great time writing it.

Nicolo knew what he had to do. He was helping no one by staying with Nile and Andy, least of all himself. He figured that he should stop wallowing in his own misery and heartbreak. That was not who he was. He was a strong man, who could survive without his heart. For fuck’s sake, he was a crusader, who figured out what they were doing was wrong. 

So he packed up and booked a flight to Jerusalem. He supposed that to heal, he should go back to the place where everything started.

They’d met on the sixth of September in the year of Christ one thousand ninety-seven.

So it seemed, poetic, Nicolo supposed, that he’d go back to commiserate the end of their relationship on the sixth of September in the year of Christ two thousand twenty. 

Jerusalem had not changed that much in the thousand-odd years since they had left. Being the holy city for three of the world's major religions, he concluded that it would remain the same for as long as these three cultures remained. 

Nicky visited some museums that stored artefacts of the crusades. While there, he spotted a drawing. A rare painting of him and Yusuf together. The guide of the tour he was a part of, explained that one crusader and one Muslim warrior left the fighting and travelled from Jerusalem to Constantinople. Becoming lovers in the process. The story she told was beautiful but detached. However, a pang of heartbreak still resonated in Nicolo’s heart. 

He went to the bloody battlefield where he had first killed Yusuf. Where he had first died. He still recognised the spot at which he stood when he first saw Yusuf. He thought that he was beautiful, then, for a Muslim. It wasn't till months later, when they both grew tired of the constant fighting and killing, that Nicolo realised how beautiful Yusuf truly was, inside and out. 

He was glad for the time that they spent together. He was glad that he could have been bonded to a soul as pure as Yusuf’s. For however angry that he was, he would always love Yusuf. 

-lex- 

Sebastien’s remorse was all-consuming. It was killing him slowly. Alcohol seemed to be his only solace. Yusuf, gregarious as he was, had made friends. Friends, who had eyes, who noticed. 

“I’ve been meaning to ask, Joe, it is none of my business, I know, but is everything alright?” One of their neighbour’s, Jenny, asked as she and Joe went to the market for groceries. Booker was babysitting Jenny’s kids.

Joe looked at her, contemplating, finally, he spoke. 

“There was another man, who used to be with us. In the way that we are. A lover, if you will. His name was Nicolo.” Jenny did not fail to notice the way Yusuf’s shoulders dipped, as he spoke about this Nicolo. “We have been together nine, almost ten years, now. We met Sebastien two years ago. He had just lost his son and was grieving. We did not know if he would be receptive to our advances. For a time, we did not try. Then, one day, we were all drinking, we asked him to join us in our bed. It was wrong, we shouldn't have, but we were desperate for him. We never told him that we wanted him to be our equal. We never spoke. We lured him into our bed and that was all. 

“A few weeks ago, he was threatened by someone. I can't go into details, but he was forced to betray us. Nicolo couldn’t forgive him then.

“The thing is that he had had a wife, who died about ten years ago. He loved her very much. He lost three sons and somehow, we were so blind to the fact that he was in pain, that he was grieving to the point that he would rather die than live.

“Nicolo wouldn't speak to me because I was quick to forgive him. But if he had seen the look on Seb’s face that day…” He trailed off. 

“I had to be there for him. Nicolo is fine, he’s strong, he had Andy and Nile. But Seb… Seb needs me right now.”

Jenny placed her hand on Joe’s shoulder. “Thank you for confiding in me.” She smiled a little shakily, having a profound empathy for Yusuf’s distress. “If I may offer some advice.” She waited for Yusuf’s nod. “Keep in contact with your Nicolo. Don't let him feel abandoned. Let him know that you still love him. It doesn’t matter if he doesn’t reply, but let him know that you are still here.”

-lex-  
About two weeks into his stay in Jerusalem, Nicolo received a message. From Yusuf. 

He wondered what Yusuf would want from him, now that he had taken everything. But he was curious. 

“Dear Nicolo,

I don't know how to start this. There are so many things that I want to say, to tell you, to ensure that you know, but for the first time in a long time, I seem to be at a loss of what to say to you.

Nicolo, I love you. I need to know that you know that. But I love Sebastien too. I know that you say that anything before ‘but’ means nothing, that’s not true in this case. The fact that I love you is part of who I am. I no longer remember who I was when I didn't love you. I no longer remember a time when I didn't. The same holds true for Sebastien. I love him. And you have told me that you do too.

My Heart, you always say that there is a fine line between love and hate, so I beg you not to cross it when it comes to Sebastien and I. We are in Paris. In Canal Saint-Martin. Come to us. Please. 

As you and I were incomplete without Sebastien, he and I are incomplete without you. 

Come home to us. Please.” 

Yours, always,  
Yusuf”

The letter tore Nicolo into pieces. He wanted to believe the words that were written, but he was scared, he realised. Scared that he would always be second to Booker. 

In the haze of his confusion, he didn't discern that that was how Booker must have felt around them. 

-lex-

Joe didn't keep the fact that he was reaching out to Nicky, a secret from Booker. He believed that any relationship should be built on mutual trust and love. It was how he and Nicolo had gotten to where they were. 

Apprehensive at first, Booker soon realised that it didn't mean that Yusuf was going to leave him. Rather, it meant that they were going to be complete. 

He started speaking to Joe. Just telling him about Celeste, Amelie, Julien, Jaques and Jean-Pierre. 

“Celeste and I, we grew up in the same town. She was eight years younger than me, and you know how little men and women interacted back in the day, so I didn't know her all that well. I knew her by face, but not name. And whenever I saw her, the one thought that would cross my mind was how beautiful she was. 

“We married a few weeks after she turned sixteen, in that small Chapel down by the beach. Very intimate, only our families were there.

“Those first few years, we were happy, I think. I know I was. I wonder now if she wanted more than we could afford. I earned by weaving textiles, and she worked as a maid for a Marquis a few towns away.” 

Booker paused in this story. He knew that Joe knew that he was a forger. Hell, he’d been forging the team’s documents for as long as he had been a part of the team. But this was how he’d gotten his start. Yusuf’s hand found his. And he was glad for the silent show of support. 

“My supervisor somehow learnt that I had a talent for copying things. So he put me to work copying the designs from an old book into a new one, which could be preserved. 

“Months or maybe even a year later, he asked if I could copy some banknotes for him. He told me that he could get me the materials and that he would give me a bag of gold coins for every ten notes. 

“So that’s how it began. At first, I tried to hide it from Celeste, I didn't want her worrying. She had miscarried twice and I was afraid that the added stress would cause her to lose another child. But, Celeste knew me better than I knew myself. She knew that the money was coming from something that may have not been completely legal, but never asked. Eight months after I began forging, Julien was born.”

Sebastien closed his eyes as he remembered that day. He had been so sure that he was going to lose Celeste. So sure that the child would not survive. He had shed so many tears that day. They had lost her. The child somehow survived, but he had lost his wife. While he may not have been in love with her, he had loved her. Tears escaped his closed eyes. He felt a thumb on his cheek, gently wiping them away. He leaned towards Yusuf’s touch. He had longed for it for so long and now he finally had it. He hoped, wished and prayed to whoever would listen to bring Nicolo to them. 

He swallowed, then took a deep breath, before continuing. 

“Julien was two when Amelie’s father approached me. I had made quite a bit of money with forgery, so much so that my job at the textile factory was merely a cover. 

“Amelie was my childhood sweetheart. But because she was from a much more wealthy family than mine, we could never have married. Except, now I had money. She too had lost her spouse, an elderly man. She didn't have any children. I told her father that I would marry her only if she agreed to it. 

“I bought a ring and got down on one knee and asked for her hand.”

Sebastien swallowed again. “And she said yes.” Joe filled in for him. Booker nodded. “And she said yes.” He repeated.

“Amelie was a wonderful mother to Julien. I didn't want to have another child, she was adamant that we would and I could never say no to her. But we had difficulty. And that I was grateful for. I even hoped that we would never have a child, but fate had other plans.”

Joe realised that the fear that Booker had of losing his wife and children was from far before those incidents ever happened. He was always scared that something would take them away from him, something that he couldn’t control.

“Thankfully, when she finally became pregnant in 1804, when Julien was six, she carried to full term. The delivery was terrifying. I thought that at any moment, a doctor would come and tell me that I had lost her. I was terrified that I would break if I lost Amelie. I loved her with all my heart and soul.” The way he looked at Joe as he professed his love for his late wife, made him think that those words did not only apply to her. He leaned forward and placed a chaste kiss on Booker’s lips. 

“I may have loved her with my heart and soul, but, you Yusuf, are my heart and Nicolo, well, he is my soul.” Sebastien’s heart thundered in his chest as he spoke the words he’d kept to himself for decades. Yusuf had already told him he loved him, but for some reason, he felt that Yusuf’s reply now would seal their fate. 

Placing a not so chaste kiss on Sebastien’s lips, Yusuf replied in french. “I love you, my star. You are the breath in my lungs and the beat of my heart. Every day without you is a day not worth living. You, and Nicolo, are everything to me.”

They sat in silence, basking in the warmth that their words had brought to the room for a few moments more. 

Then Booker continued. “Obviously, she survived. I cannot describe the sheer and utter relief I felt that both she and the child were safe. Jaques had her face and my eyes. He was beautiful. I spent hours in the night just holding him in the moonlight. Julien adored him and vice versa. 

“We were happy. Amelie too knew where our money came from. But she didn't complain, she was used to a certain lifestyle and the money I earned through my illicit activities supported that. The only time we spoke of it was when she told me to promise her that I wouldn't get caught, because, she said, that she loved me too much to see me go to the gallows.

“Then the conscriptions came. Marseille was going through a bad time and many men were unable to leave their families. My old supervisor saw a method to earn. He got me to forge doctor’s letters to excuse men from service.” 

He stopped abruptly. This was going to be difficult for him. Knowing this, Yusuf said, “Let’s take a break. I’ll make some tea.”

Booker closed his eyes and nodded in thanks.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone for reading! Hope you enjoy!

From Jerusalem, he began walking north. The same direction that he and Yusuf had walked in all those years ago. He walked for hours on end. Not even stopping to eat. He’d receive an email from Yusuf every day. Nothing long like the first one. Just short sweet messages. Sometimes, he would even receive a message from Booker. On those days, he pushed himself more. Walking, running as fast as he could, as though he was trying to run from his own mind. 

He stopped in every town or village that he came across, as he had wanted to in those early days. 

In one of the more remote villages, he was able to buy a horse. They had one, back then. But Yusuf’s fury burned bright as it did and he wouldn't allow Nicolo to ride the horse. In his more cruel moments, he’d tie Nicolo to the reins and make him run behind the horse till he passed out or his fury cooled. 

Nicolo never held it against him. Yusuf had a right to torture him. To hurt him as much as he wanted too because after all, Nicolo had hurt him first. 

Nicolo and his comrades had marched upon the city claimed by his people, burnt his towns, raped his women. They were in the wrong. They deserved to be punished. What he couldn’t understand was how Yusuf could forgive Booker without demanding some penance. He had had these thoughts run through his head so very many times since everything had gone down. 

He groaned. Then sighed. Oh, how he longed to feel Yusuf’s arms around him. How he yearned to kiss the corners of those green eyes. Green? Sebastien. He slammed his fist into a nearby tree. All the birds in that tree flew away in a panicked frenzy of hums. Still, he kicked and punched it till his knuckles bled, and yet didn't stop. When that provided catharsis no more, he screamed. Agonisingly. He yelled till he could no longer speak. And that was when the tears came. 

He cried not for Yusuf, or Sebastien, nor Andromache or Nile. He cried for himself. For the pain the last few weeks had caused him. His fury still burned bright for Sebastien, and sparks of hatred did make their way into his heart, but everything extinguished under the waves of love he felt. 

When his tears dried, he was not who he was when he began. For his pain had warped him. He was not the kind-hearted Nicolo that he had been all this life. He had hardened his heart. He vowed to himself that he would never open himself up in such a way again. That he would never be hurt again.

-lex- 

They conversed about every single inconsequential thing they could think off as they sat there drinking their tea. 

Once they finished, Booker briefly considered cleaning up, just to avoid having to continue speaking. But he decided against it. It was a good release, recollecting events of so very long ago. 

“So, we’ve covered the conscriptions, and how I forged doctors’ letters. We failed to fill the quota. So, investigators were sent down to figure out why.”

Booker sighed. He took a deep breath and exhaled harshly before continuing. There was a steely glint in his eyes and a hardness to his voice. 

“They came in the middle of the night. Dragged me out of bed. They were loud, woke the boys up. It was 1810. Julien was twelve and Jaques was six.” Sebastien stood up and moved to the window. Gazing out at the setting sun as he summoned up the courage to trudge through his memories and find the words to tell Yusuf. 

“Julien made sure that Jaques didn't see anything. They tied me to a tree in the front yard, unsheathed their swords and began to hit me. That’s why I have the scars on my back. When they were done, when I was nothing but a pile of blood and flesh and bone, when I no longer had the strength to stand they told me that I had a choice. Either, I could die by the axe or on the bloody battlefields of Russia. 

“If it was my choice, I would have chosen the axe. But the moment in which I opened my mouth to tell them my decision, I saw Amelie. She had tear streaks down her face, her nightgown was torn, and all I could do was hope that they had not touched her. They hadn’t. I knew that I had to live, so that I had a sliver of a chance of protecting them. They were left in Amelie’s father’s care. I hadn’t known it then, but she was pregnant when I left. Letters weren’t exactly private then, with Napoleon so convinced that traitors were running wild. So Amelie didn't tell me.

“Most of us small-town folk were used as cannon fodder. We were barely given the most basic of instructions on how to use the bayonets. I have no idea how I survived the two years i marched with them. 

“Finally, I thought, enough was enough. Dying was a given in Russia. But I thought, that maybe, just maybe, if I deserted, I could survive. So I deserted. It must have taken about a month for me to put my plan into action. But like the best-laid plans of mice and men… I suppose, whatever way in which I carried out my plan, I would have still ended up on the business end of a noose.

“You know this part already, I hung for three days, dying countless times, then I finally managed to eat a crow and climb down. After that I forged some documents saying that my ‘death’ had been a mix up with a man with the same name from Montpellier and that I had received an honourable discharge. From there it was simple. My Russian was good and I could pass for a native speaker, I pretty much hitchhiked back to France. 

“By the time you found me two years after my first death, I had been back with my family only a month. Jean-Pierre was nearing his fourth birthday. I told you all to leave me alone, that I would find you once my time was up.”

Booker closed his eyes to hold back his tears. 

“I should have listened, then perhaps, I would not carry the grief that I do today.”

Yusuf knelt in front of him, clutching his hands in his own. “No. No. What you did was right. Amelie needed you. And you needed her. I think that if you hadn’t gone back, you would have regretted it and would have resented yourself.”

“I do that anyway.” 

“You shouldn't.”

Sebastien shook his head, wanting to just end the story as fast as he could.

“Julien had taken it upon himself to join a rebellion against Napoleon. He said that he wanted to avenge the pain that was inflicted on me. I only found out a year after I returned to them. A few weeks later, a raid was conducted and he was arrested. Tried as a traitor, and was found guilty.” Sebastien slumped further into the couch. He pressed the heel of his palms into his eyes, trying to stop the tears. 

“They hanged him.” Joe whispered. He had never thought to ask. They’d always assumed that Julien had passed through some disease as was common in those times. He had never known. 

After this, he knew everything. They had remained in that area for years after Julien’s death, leaving just before Jean-Pierre’s death, forty years later. 

He knew how Jaques had died trying to protect a traitor’s daughter from being raped. How Amelie, had taken ill immediately after and passed not a month later. 

How Jean-Pierre was the only one of his family to notice that he wasn't ageing. And how his love for his father warped into fear, anger then hatred. He should have asked Sebastien to tell him, them, all of this before. Even before they became lovers, he called himself Sebastien’s brother, his best friend. He was blind, but now his eyes had opened and all Yusuf could do was hope that it was not too late to fix everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you would like to see anything added into the fic, please feel free to let me know and I'll try my best to incorporate it in!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be Joe pining for Nicky. But that didn't happen. 
> 
> Don't think that this needs a warning. Lemme know if it does.

Yusuf and Sebastien, close as they had become, did not grace the other’s bed every night. Once a week, perhaps twice, but not more than that. 

The night after Sebastien told Yusuf his story, they, together, went to bed, the younger man safely cocooned in his lover’s arms. 

One might think, that after the emotionally exhausting day they had had, both would sleep soundly and deeply. That was the case for Sebastien, who was in Morpheus’ arms before his head hit the pillow. 

Yusuf, however, was restless. He laid wide awake, wanting to see Nicolo, to touch him and hold him the way he had for so many years. 

Why wouldn't he reply? Could he not see that he needed him? Nicolo had always been apt at reading him. He had never needed to read Nicolo, who, without fail, always spoke his mind. 

Twisting a little to the other side, he grabbed his phone and desperately reloaded his email, needing to see that Nicolo had replied, and had given him some sign that there was some chance that he still loved him. 

There was a message. There was a message from Nicolo. It was a file of some sort. Softly, he untangled himself from Sebastien’s long limbs and left the room. 

In the dimly lit hallway, he opened the file. A video. Hands shaking, it took him three attempts at pressing the ‘play’ button. 

The place in which the video was taken, was brightly lit, a cacophony of noises filled his ears and Yusuf pressed right down on the ‘volume down’ button. The ambience of the place could be felt right through the tiny screen of the phone. A bar. 

The video held still for a few seconds, just enough time for Joe to soak in the ambience, then Nicky appeared. He was wearing a button-up shirt, the colour of the ocean, grey pants that clung to him like a second skin. An earring in his ear, large, dangling one of the pieces that Joe would always say looked terrible. He lifted his left hand. His ring finger was empty. 

Unconsciously, Joe’s head thumped against the wall and he recoiled. He could feel a burn in the back of his eyes. A man entered the frame. He was lean and tall. If Yusuf was in any state of mind to ogle, he would have. But all he could do was look at Nicolo. His Nicolo. The man in the video who should have been his Nicolo, didn't look like him.

He should have, but he just didn't. ‘Maybe it was the…’ Joe tried to think of why. But nothing. 

The video continued, the man and Nicolo were dirty dancing. Nicolo was being touched, groped in places that only Yusuf and occasionally, Sebastien, had been privy to. 

A rage boiled but was washed out with tears. Joe slumped down the wall, phone dropping from his hand, unable to continue watching. 

He wanted to scream, to shout, to yell. He wanted Nicolo, his Nicolo, not the demented version in the video. Suddenly, through his tears, he realised who the video Nicolo had reminded him off. Invader Nicolo. The Nicolo who mercilessly killed so many of his people. The Nicolo who didn't love him. 

He wanted his Nicolo. He needed his Nicolo. For one agonising second, he considered leaving Sebastien and looking for Nicolo. But no. He couldn’t. All the progress that he had made with Sebastien would be for nought if he were to do so. And he couldn’t take Sebastien with him, for Nicolo was infuriated enough.

He wanted to resent Sebastien for not telling them of what Copley had planned. For believing that Merrick would truly leave the rest of them alone once he had Sebastien. But Yusuf couldn’t. Fear blinds. Pain blinds. Love blinds. And he loved Sebastien without a doubt. Resenting him was not an option.

Slowly, he rose and went back to bed. He sought comfort in the fact that he at least had Sebastien.

-lex-

Nicolo woke up in an unfamiliar bed. In an unfamiliar room. With an unfamiliar man’s arms around him. 

The stench of alcohol reeked in the room and he gagged at it. He felt as though he had not rested at all the previous night and he felt awful. 

Roughly, he removed himself from his fling’s embrace. The man, ‘Ahmad’ his mind provided, stirred but did not wake. Recollections of his activities the night before. He sent a video to Yusuf… 

‘Good!’ He thought, in a fit of spite, Nicky had to agree. ‘Let him see what he gave up. Let him see what you can do.’

He had always been spiteful by nature, though he had hoped that time had cured him of that flaw. Right now, he was glad that it hadn’t. 

Nicky snuck out of the house before Ahmad woke, not even bothering to leave a note behind. A small part of his mind was entombed in regret over the video that he had sent, but he blocked it out, using the rationale that it shouldn't hurt Joe, for he had made his choice.

‘Then again,’ that part of his mind piped up, ‘why did he send Joe that video, if not to hurt him? What was the purpose?”

“Shut up!” He shouted to himself, grateful that he was the only person on the street. “Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP!” 

And it finally did. Though not for long, he knew. Not for long. 

He checked his phone. There was no reply from Joe. Well, there was a message, but its contents were similar to that of the previous emails he had received from Yusuf. All the ‘I love yous’ and ‘Please come backs’ that he wanted nothing to do with. Nothing that showed that he was affected in any way. 

That just proved it. Either Yusuf hadn’t bothered seeing the video, or he hadn’t been affected by it. Either way, it proved what he had known for a long time. Yusuf’s love for him had faded. And perhaps that the only reason that he had wanted him back was to have familiarity. 

Although he had promised himself that he would never let anyone hurt him, he couldn’t help the grief that blossomed in his chest. The shockwaves of which put him onto his knees. 

A cruel thought burrowed into this mind. What if Joe had never loved him? What if he had been biding his time, waiting for a chance and opportunity to hurt him? This would have been the best way. 

He collapsed onto the stone ground. Heaving, but no air would enter his lungs. His chest constricted and even more, tears blurred his vision. He tried inhaling, more, faster, but the burn in his lungs would not cease. 

“Yusuf!” He cried, for even with the thought that his heart would betray him in such a way, he could not help but seek the comfort and safety of his embrace. “Sebastien.” He moaned, for even his arms would be enough comfort. “Please.” He begged. “Show me that you care. Some sign any sign.”

But no one came. There was no one to bear witness to the way he begged for what he wanted most. He was alone. And he had broken his vow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick question: Would you guys be interested in reading a fic where Joe chooses Nicky instead? Cuz I think I might write it! Lemme know!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big thank you to Westlif264 for letting me use something they've written for this chapter!

It took some time, but Nicky was able to breathe again. He stood shakily and rushed back to the inn that he was staying at. 

He dumped all his belongings into the duffle bad that he had been lugging around and left. He didn't even bother to sell Starlight, his horse, before finding the nearest airport and booking a flight. When the receptionist asked, “Too where, Sir?”

He replied, “Surprise me.” And he was. 

That’s how Nicolo found himself in Aljezur, a beach town thirty kilometres north of Lagos.

He had rented a room in a nondescript inn. As was the Guard’s habit, they rarely stayed in hotels. There they became far too conspicuous. 

He spent two days in his room, reading the books he had bought at the airport. They were decent, he supposed. Nothing great. 

On the third day, he finally left the inn. He walked on the sandy white beaches that reminded him so much of Malta. He supposed that that was now Joe and Sebastien’s. Or would Yusuf leave that place alone? He did not know. 

It was a beautiful town he concluded, with pretty beaches to fit the description.

He must have walked for hours that day, half in the water, half out. Finally, at dusk, he sat down and watched the sunset. He closed his eyes just as the sun disappeared completely. 

He shut his eyes for a moment and they did not open for hours

-lex-

Yusuf did not get out of bed the next day. He could not bear to. Sebastien sensed his melancholy and kept out of his way, not knowing how to comfort the older man. Not knowing if his comfort would be accepted. Scared of rejection.

For even with the hours that Yusuf had spent reassuring Booker, his insecurity still remained.

Sebastien wanted to wrap his arms around Yusuf, to tell him that he still had him, even though they did not have Nicolo. How sure he was that Nicolo would soon come back. It was a lie. He did not know him well enough to make such a statement.

But Booker longed for Nicolo. For the succour of his presence. The serenity in his voice as he would tell them that he had made their favourite foods after a rough day. The way that he would be able to inspire Yusuf to sprout poetry about his being. The way he hadn't once done for Sebastien. For even the sole recipient of Yusuf’s attention, he could not compete with the omniscient presence of Nicolo’s spirit. Neither mentioned it, but both felt it. 

They didn't speak much that day. Yusuf, unable to find the energy to do anything but curl in his bed, imagining Nicolo in his arms. 

Joe was woken from his restless sleep with Sebastien serving him Lablabi. He felt a wave of guilt. He should be the one caring for Sebastien, not vice versa. But in that instant, he couldn’t bring himself to care. 

Sebastien asked if he should stay. But Yusuf shook his head. He needed to be alone. He needed to think of a way to bring Nicolo home.

He wondered where Nicolo may be. Malta, perhaps? But no, he wouldn't go there. They had always been there together. Their cottage in Genova? Again they had only ever been there together. Closing his eyes, and slumping back in bed, he realised that there was nowhere in the world that they hadn’t been to together. 

Getting out of bed for the first time that day, he walked on shaky legs to where his bag was and rummaged in it. Finally, he found what he was looking for and walked back to bed. 

It was an album. An album that they had curated over nine centuries. There were eight hundred years worth of drawings, mostly by Yusuf’s hand, but some were of Yusuf, drawn by Nicolo. As he flipped through the pages, he wondered if maybe, just maybe Joe had spoken to Nicky that night, even if his husband wouldn't have listened, just spoken and tried to explain his reasoning. Maybe if Joe had kept his hand on Nicky as he cried, even though he didn't respond. Maybe if he'd moved Nicky so he was more involved, more a part of them, even if Nicky hadn’t wanted to be near Sebastian at that time. Would he have accepted, would these last few weeks have been different. Would he have stayed?

He shut the album with an audible snap. Nicolo’s silence hurt. Hurt more than anything. He picked up his phone, dialled the number that he knew by heart. His finger hovered over the call button. He almost pressed it so many times. 

But he was scared. What if Nicolo truly did not love him anymore? What if he wanted nothing to do with him? What would he do? He loved Nicolo more than he could say. For however much, he tried to put his love into poetics, they always fell short. 

Yusuf screamed and Sebastien’s blood curdled.

He knew the agony well. For that agony had been in his every word for many, many years. 

He wished Nicky was here. He would know how to make this better. Sebastien knew that this was because of Nicolo’s absence. “Please Mon Amour, come back, we need you.” He whispered. 

-lex-

There was something beside him. Poking and prodding him. It felt like… like… an elbow? Blearily, he opened his eyes. It was still dark, perhaps midnight. If Yusuf was there he would have weaved some poetry about the beauty of the colour of the sky. But he wasn't there, Nicolo reminded himself, harshly. 

The prodding was still there. His right thigh. He looked down, expecting a rock. There was no rock. 

A woman. Brown hair he could make out from the limited light. Half a foot taller than Andy. Hands, dainty, but still as large as his. Supple, perfect for archery, were her fingers. Bony elbow, a perfect weapon.

He did not need to see her face to know who she was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry, I couldn't resist.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is mostly a filler chapter. Not much action, but needed to happen.  
> Also, I'll be changing the title of the fic to Forgive.

Quynh.

Quynh.

Quynh.

She was there. Alive. Out. Unconscious, but there. With him. 

Nicolo knelt and gave thanks to a God he wasn't sure existed, in whose name, she was captured and forced to drown for five hundred years. For Quynh was free. Finally free.

He took off the shirt and jacket that he was wearing and wrapped it around her. She wasn't much shorter than him, but he artfully covered her and protected her modesty. 

He attempted and failed to wake her, in the end, he picked her up in bridal style and began walking in the direction from whence he came. 

Knowing it would be considered odd for him to be walking around half-naked with a naked woman in his arms, he pulled out his phone and opened google maps. Beyond relieved to see that he was only ten minutes away from the inn, he realised that he must have somehow taken a shortcut while walking back. 

He was glad the room that he had rented was on the ground floor. He swung a still unconscious Quynh over his shoulder and carefully climbed through the window.

He laid her down on his bed and studied her. She looked just as he remembered, if not a little more tired. But who could blame her? His fingers itched. He wanted to call Andromache, tell her that her Quynh was finally free, but he knew not her mental state. Andromache had only one life left to live and he was in no hurry to risk it. 

-lex-

Quynh rose with the moon. On a bed that felt of feathers. Not a drop of water to be felt. Slowly, recollections of her escape from her watery grave came back to her, but memories of how she arrived wherever she had eluded her. 

Her eyes opened. Slowly adjusting to the light in the room. It wasn't much, just the shallow moonlight coming through one window and some contraption emitting light from the corner of the room. 

She lifted herself, resting on her elbows. She noticed that she was clothed in some chemise. But it was thicker than she remembered. Her legs were bare, the shirt only coming to her mid-thighs. There was a quilt covering her calves. Her skin paler than she remembered, but that would have been the effect of not seeing the light of day for however long she had been underwater. 

Sense of time had completely vanished. It could have been a decade before Sebastien had been reborn, but her mind told her that the amount of progress that she had witnessed through Sebastien’s eyes was not worthy of a decade. From then on, she could keep track of the years. By her best estimate, it could have been a hundred and fifty or so years since she had begun having visions. 

A movement she saw through the corner of her eye, caught her attention. 

“You’re awake.” The person, man she noticed from the deepness of his words. His voice sounded calming, familiar, known, yet she could not place it. 

“Andromache.” She whispered, she had no want, no need, but to see her love again. See her through her own eyes once more. 

“Quynh.” The man said, trying to get her attention. 

Her head whipped around, till she saw the man who had said her name. 

The question of how he knew was lost on her lips as she saw Nicolo in front of her. 

He looked just as she remembered. But different too. He was not the carefree, yet reserved brother she would spend hours teasing and chasing around. There were lines on his face. His expressive eyes, through which he could hide nothing, displayed a desire for comfort, for love, for Yusuf and someone else, who, she did not know. 

The last dreams she had had through Sebastien came back to her and she felt a simultaneous urge to hold and club Nicolo on his head for his absolute imbecility. 

She surged forward, and he lifted his arms to protect himself, thinking perhaps she had reason to be furious. She didn't. 

Wrapping her arms around him, she held tight and he collapsed.

-lex-

The day passed slowly for them both. Together, yet, alone. Wanting to comfort and be comforted. 

Yusuf left his room at nightfall to find Sebastien hunched over his computer. An email tab open. He was typing, and deleting, typing and deleting, unable to decide on what to say, how to prove that they needed him. Wanted him. Couldn’t survive without him. 

Sebastien didn't notice Yusuf’s presence. He just wrote, wrote whatever came to his heart and mind, but never found the courage to press ‘send’. He didn't want to face Nicolo’s rejection again. 

Finally, he huffed and slammed the screen of his laptop against his keyboard. 

“Yusuf doesn’t need me, Nicolo doesn’t want me. What is my place here? Why am I screwing up the perfect relationship? The love story of a millennium?” Before he could continue further, Yusuf laid a hand on his shoulder. Sebastien spun on his heel and looked him in the eye. 

“You’re not screwing up anything,” Yusuf said. On a normal day, his Tunisian accent was barely noticeable, but today, today, Sebastien could hear every cadence and every variation that the accent made to Yusuf’s voice. It was a testament to how emotional Yusuf was feeling.

Booker licked his lips, they were cracked and dry. He realised that he hadn’t drunk water the whole day. He sighed, rubbing his forehead with the back of his hand. 

Something shifted in the room. The two men slowly gravitated towards each other. Yusuf started the kiss. A kiss with a vigour that Sebastien had never received from Yusuf. He didn't hold back. Sebastien felt Yusuf’s at his hips, moving up and down, his left moving to his thighs. 

Sebastien’s hands cupped Yusuf’s face, responding with a gentleness that he’d only shown to Celeste and Amelie. 

Simultaneously, they began undressing each other, never breaking the kiss. Till they did. 

“Let’s stop.” Yusuf whispered. 

“Not now.” Sebastien mumbled. 

Yusuf felt a relief as he heard Sebastien agree with him. Things were moving too fast and both of their emotions were running high. It wasn't the right time. They would get there but not today.

Booker felt a wave of rejection and relief. Rejection because he knew that Joe didn't want him that way. And relief because he wasn't ready. 

“Hey. Booker, I want you. But things right now, with our emotions all over the place… we shouldn't. I love you.”

“You want me?” 

“Of course I do, Libretto. Of course, I do.”

“As much as Nicky?” He couldn't help but ask. 

Yusuf closed his eyes, and Booker felt his heart sink.

“Yes. As much as I want him. But Booker, our relationships are different, you can't ask me to compare the two of you. And I promise to never ask you.” 

They sat in silence for a few minutes. Before Booker spoke, “I promise too.” 

Joe laid his head on Sebastien’s shoulder and Sebastien’s head rested on his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lemme know if there's anything specific that you would like to see please let me know.


	8. Chapter 8

He had missed Quynh. He had forgotten how she was. How she demanded what she wanted and would flay the person she had ‘asked’ if they were unable to get it for her. In that aspect, she had not changed much. 

That first day after she woke, Nicolo had given her one of his hoodies and a pair of sweatpants to wear. When she saw what other women wore, she hit Nicolo over the head and glared at him for what he’d given her to wear. 

They hadn’t spoken about the obvious. Nor had he asked her about her dreams of Booker and Yusuf. 

Until they did. Perhaps a few too many glasses of wine in their system too quickly to drunk. 

“Why are you not with them?” 

Nicky stopped mid-sip. Lowering his glass to the table in front of him, he wiped his shaky hands on his palms. If he was honest with himself, he was surprised that she had taken so long to ask, given she was privy to Sebastien’s mind. 

He fixed her with a hard stare. “You know why.” He almost growled. 

“I know why.” She acquiesced. “Which is how I can tell you that you are being ridiculous-”

“Quyn-”

“No, Nicolo, listen to me. Yusuf loves you. Sebastien loves you. And if you tell me that you don't love both of them, well, you know how much I like lies.”

Nicolo did know. Once, when they were young and foolish, Yusuf and Nicolo had told Andromache and Quynh that they were going out to buy food. In reality, they had gone to engage in a religious conflict. 

Quynh had not been happy. Training the next day had been brutal. They hadn’t ever been beaten up as severely, in well, ever. From that day, not one untruth, or even fib had been told to or by anyone in the group 

Nicolo opened and closed his mouth a few times. He had no idea what to say other than, ‘I love them, both of them.’ 

And that's what he ended up saying. “I want to be with them, but I’m angry.”

“Why?” A rumble of thunder shook the room and rain started to pour in. A few drops made their way in through the window and landed on Quynh. She flinched hard, before moving away from the open window. Nicolo stood, walked as slowly as he could and looking far out into the distance, onto the blue waters before closing the window.

He returned to the armchair that he had been resting on., picked on a loose thread, for something to do. Then he said. “What about Andromache? Do you not want to see her again?” 

“Answer my question, Nicolo!” She fumed, agitated by the water, angered by the change in topic. 

For a moment he considered parroting her words back to her, but the tone in which she spoke, well, it didn't bode well for him to disrespect her. Not now. 

“They hurt me.” He closed his eyes. He had barely admitted to himself how badly hurt he had been. Or for the reasons that he had been. “I'm tired, Quynh.” He mumbled, holding back tears. Quynh had never been sympathetic to tears, and he knew that now she would be even less. 

Quynh always hated any kind of weakness. The embrace he had received when she saw him, was a one-off. She was no comforting presence. She would only be there for as long as it suited her.

-lex- 

They slept in their own rooms that night, not wanting to lose control of their emotions and get lost in their passions. 

Sebastien woke feeling lousy. He missed Nicolo. Wanted Nicolo. Even if he were to curse, beat and punish him in any way, well that would be better than the perpetual silence. 

Yusuf knocked on his door at ten. Said that he needed to go down to the market to pick something up, that he would be back in an hour or two. Not wanting Joe to realise that there was something wrong, he mumbled an affirmation, making his voice sound sleep-filled. 

Joe entered the room, and Sebastien rubbed his eyes in show. He could sense that Joe grinned before placing a light kiss on his forehead. 

“Sleep, Habibi, sleep. I’ll be back before you know it.” Sebastien’s heart both clenched and quickened. 

He felt a pang of misery that Yusuf couldn’t see through his white lie. But his heart raced when he was called a pet name that he had thought was only reserved for Nicky. 

He heard the front door close and he threw off the covers. 

Not bothering to put on any decent clothes, he padded down to the kitchen. He walked towards the cupboard that he knew stored the liquor and attempted to open it. It didn't budge. He tried again, pulling the door a little harder. Nothing. 

It had been locked. 

A craving took root in the pit of his stomach and began to work its way through his body. A desire so strong that no other thought remained in his body. 

He hunted for the key. Trespassed in Yusuf’s room, through his belongings, the album, which was open on his bed did not help quell his desire, which had now turned into rage. For one spite filled moment, he considered ripping up the pictures and photographs but thought better of it. 

He could not believe that Yusuf would try and exert his control over Sebastien in such a way. Yusuf, who knew exactly how much Sebastien needed alcohol. He wondered how Yusuf could believe that a few weeks could heal his dependency on alcohol. Or that it needed to be curbed in the first place. 

He waited, sitting in the living room, for Yusuf’s return. His longing for Nicolo, coupled with the fact that it was Celeste’s death anniversary, and the lack of alcohol in his system had made him feral. 

When the door opened he pounced on Yusuf. The untamed rage in him quickening his reflexes and sharpening his accuracy. 

But, Yusuf, with centuries of practice behind him, pinned Sebastien in minutes. 

“Sebastien! Stop this!” 

“How could you do this to me? Why do you hate me so?” He yelled, fighting against Yusuf’s grip, the same way Andromache had fought against Merrick’s men. And with the same level of success. 

“What are you talking about? I love you.” He asked, a little winded from the effort of stopping Sebastien’s thrashes. 

He didn't reply, just redoubled his efforts. 

“Sebastien, please.” He begged, trying to search through his mind for something that he could have done to upset Sebastien. He knew that there was something off with him that morning, but thought that he had wanted to be left alone.

Sebastien broke. All the fight went out of him as he began to sob. Everything that he wanted, needed, other than Yusuf, he was unable to have.

And now Yusuf too would leave him. 

He could not hold back the tears that had begun forming in his eyes two centuries prior. Because even now, the fear that he would be alone was all-consuming. For not five weeks ago, they had made the decision to leave him alone for a century. 

His tears began to flow even more rapidly as he thought about what could have happened if Yusuf hadn’t harboured mercy in his heart. He knew he would have drunk himself to death. 

He would not have survived in his own solitude. He would have lost himself. 

And he was still losing himself. 

Nothing Yusuf could say would calm him. He laid on the cool marble floor and cried. 

Finally, Yusuf laid beside him and held him. His heart broke. And there was nothing he could do. They were all hurting. And there was nothing he could do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lemme know if there's anything yall wanna see in this!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A humongous, ginormous thank you to Westlife264 for their help with this chapter. It gave me a lot of problems and they fixed them!

When Sebastien’s tears finally quelled, Yusuf pushed himself off the floor and helped him up. They had taken a few steps forward but seemed to have taken just as many steps back. 

He rubbed the cuff of his sleeve over his face before pulling Sebastien into his arms and leading him into the bathroom. He sat him down on the closed toilet seat before running a cloth underwater and then gently rubbing it on his face, clearing it of all the tear tracks. 

He stopped when he heard Sebastien take in a shuddering breath.

“What is it?” He asked. His voice was not harsh, nor was it gentle. It was neutral and he could see that it had thrown Sebastien off. “Well?” 

“Are you angry?” He mumbled, his voice vulnerable. 

“What do you think, Booker? What do you think?” He snapped. His emotions had been running high, what with the video of Nicky, his pinning of him and worry over the man in front of him. “You attacked me! For a bloody drink!” His voice rose, his ministrations stopped and Booker shrunk back. 

“Why did you lock the cupboard then?” Sebastian pointed out, sending a weak glare at Yusuf. He did regret his actions, but the craving was too strong for any rational thought to control his movements.

Yusuf looked to his right, sighed and closed his eyes. He dropped the cloth and clutched the sink to his right. “Because you don't need it, Sebastien.”

“Isn’t that my decision to make, Yusuf? Forget it. Here I thought that you would finally accept me for who I am, but instead, you want me to change, want me to be someone I’m not.” A realisation struck him hard. Was it possible? “You want me to be Nicky, don't you? You don't want me, you never wanted me, you want him and only him. And you can't have him, so you’re here trying to turn me into Nicolo. No wonder he left you! Left us! He must think that I am like you, and will try to change him.” Without waiting for a reply, he walked out of the bathroom and the house. He needed a drink so badly. He coveted it. Pulling out his phone, he googled bars in the vicinity and made his way to the nearest one. 

But however much he wanted too, he couldn’t. He stared at the whiskey that he had ordered and every time he reached out to pick it up and down it, he would flinch and his hand would recoil. So he stared at it. He had been there for hours and night had begun to fall. He left his drink on the table and fled. He didn't want to go back. If he did, he knew that he would have to face the empty house, for Joe would not be there. He wanted Joe and Nicky so much that he was willing to live off any scraps of love they deemed fit to give him. But his heart ached when he thought of how Joe was playing with him, wanting him to change. How Nicolo was so ready to abandon him to think so low of him. He knew what he had said to Joe was unjust, but his emotions had gotten the better of him. 

He had once told Andromache, with an alcohol loosened tongue, that he thought of Nicolo as the kindest person he had ever known. She had just smiled knowingly and nodded. 

He supposed he now knew what the knowing smile meant. Nicolo could hold a grudge like no one else.

The house that he went back to was dark and cold. There was none of the warmth that Joe’s presence provided. 

His exile had begun. Then, the butt of a pistol met his head, and he didn't even have time to turn before he passed out.

-lex-

Nile was… a handful. Her opinions were so strong that arguing with her was like begging for a painful death. 

Her training was going well. She had what Andy considered the basic knowledge of fighting. It wasn't enough. 

She enjoyed her lessons with the elder woman and answered her questions about what she would see in her dreams. She hated seeing how upset Andy would become when she told her that there was no difference to what she had seen the night before. 

Then the dreams stopped, or well the dreams of drowning stopped. And Andy realised that they were fading, just like Booker said that they had, two centuries ago.

Then Nile dreamed of Nicky. And Andromache realised what that meant. 

She felt betrayed. Betrayed by her brother and her lover. Why had they not told her that Quynh had escaped? That she was finally on dry land. From Nile’s dreams, they figured out that Nicky and Quynh were in Portugal. A town thirty kilometres north of Laos. Aljezur. 

Andromache and Quynh had spent years in that town right before her capture. Even five hundred years later she would be able to recognise the town through Nile’s vivid descriptions. 

Also, Copley told them that was where Nicky was when they asked.

It took them two days to make the arrangements and reach it.

-lex- 

Joe stood in shock, unable to move to stop Sebastien, to tell him how wrong he was. He stood rooted to the spot, incapable of even calming his breaths. 

Nicky. Nicolo. He would know how to fix this. He would know how to reassure Booker. He would know how to calm him down. Running a hand through his messed up hair, Joe thought quickly, he had to do something. What would his Nico do? 

Taking a deep breath, Joe straightened up, he had to fix this, he couldn't let them both down, and right now, Sebastian was the closest. a. 

Walking out the bathroom, his mind made up. Booker, however, whenever he came, Joe would show him the love he needed. He didn't want another Nicky, he wanted HIS Nicolò. Perhaps in time, when they were all together, they could help Sebastian, help him understand that he wasn't trying to turn him into Nicky.

Opening the front door, Joe took a step out, only to bump into someone, a whole head shorter than him, wearing a long red coat, that matched her red lipstick. Even after 500 years, he knew that face as he knew his own.

"Quynh?" He gasped, not believing what he was seeing, it had been so long.

"Quynh!" He cried, relief flowing through him, she was out, she was here.

Without a second thought, he surged forwards and took her in his arms, holding her tight as he cried tears of joy.

"Yusuf." She pulled back, looking very unimpressed. "You're coming with me. she commanded, for Quynh, well, even five hundred years later, would never request.

"Yes, yes," Joe smiled, eager. "I just need to find Sebastian, then we can call Andy." 

Quynh continued to just look at him with the same look, before shaking her head "I will be back for Sebastian later. And this does not concern Andromache." With that, she turned and walked away.

"No, you don't understand. I can't just leave him." Joe tried, as he ran to catch up, for someone so short, she could walk fast.

"You've done it many times before Yusuf!" She snapped, spinning to face him "And it wasn't just Sebastian you left." Her words were venom, burning through his veins. "Now, will you come quietly, or do I have to force you?"


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so very sorry for the long wait! There is no excuse for it.

When Nicky woke, the bed was cold. The room was cold, despite the sunlight streaming in through the windows. It was late afternoon, he could tell. Another thing that he could tell; he was alone. Quynh’s all-consuming presence was not felt anywhere in the room. 

He sat up on the bed and rubbed the balls of his palm on his eyes. He hated the feeling of stinging tears that were present in the back of his eyes. 

Why couldn’t she have told him? He sighed. He was wrong to have assumed that Quynh would be anything more or less than the fierce warrior that she was. 

For the first time in nearly six centuries, he felt an urge to drink. Not for enjoyment, but for the numbness it provided. Was that why Sebastien drank? To that question, he knew the answer. He had always known the answer. 

He climbed out of bed, dressed and made his way to the nearest bar. 

They couldn’t get fully drunk. Their bodies detoxified the alcohol faster than they could drink. But that didn't stop him from trying. 

He didn't pay much attention to the people around him till a woman seated next to him began talking.

At first, he didn't realise that she was speaking to him, but when she tapped his shoulder, he asked her to repeat herself. 

She was attractive. She was tanned and had almond-shaped blue eyes, accentuated by the kohl and mascara she had worn. She had worn a clingy red dress with silver heels and had an amazing figure. She was by all accounts beautiful. And didn't seem to realise he was uninterested. 

“I’m Bia.” She said in rather accented English. 

“Nicolo. Nicky.” He replied, pausing before informing her, “I’m gay.” He turned back to his drink and took a large gulp. 

She laughed. “I know, Silly.” she smiled. “It’s quite obvious. You seem very sad though.” 

“Brilliant observation.” He replied, mumbling a few expletives in Genovese.

“I just meant that sometimes an impartial ear helps.” She smiled at him. 

He glanced at her sideways. “What’s there to say? One of my lovers betrayed me and my other lover. And my other lover thinks that he did nothing wrong and forgave him. When I refused to, they left me and went to France.” It felt good to say this. With Quynh, he had to make a show of being strong, of not letting any stray emotion rise to the surface, but this woman was no one to him. “Fucking Paris, Canal Saint-Martin.”

“I’m so sorry.” She had tears in her eyes, which she hastily wiped away with the back of her hand. Her lip quivered. “It’s just that, my husband, well, he left me for my sister. It just hurts that the people so close to us are the ones that hurt us the most.” She seemed on the verge of breaking down into tears when she regained control. “I’m sorry.” She pulled out a picture of a man who would have been her husband and showed it to him. He was attractive, Nicolo had to admit, but not really his type. He sighed. His type consisted of two men, exactly as they were in looks and personality. He reached into his pocket and opened it, showing her the photograph of the three of them. 

That day had been a rare day. At the end of which, the Frenchman had resembled the fun loving Sebastien more than the reserved Booker they had known. 

“Booker,” He pointed to the blonde in the photograph, eyes lingering, “He betrayed us. And Joe,” his fingernail grazed the paper as he shifted to Joe’s face, “he just forgave him like it was nothing. Like what happened was nothing.” 

Nicolo shuddered with the weight of the tears he was holding back. His free hand a fist on the table in front of him. 

“Well, then. A drink to never let anyone hurt us again.” Bia raised her glass, clinked it lightly with his. Nicolo nodded and downed it in one go.

-lex-

If Yusuf had his way, he would wrap his arms around Quynh and never let go. His relief that she was out of the iron maiden was palpable. How he wished to have never lost her to the sea. 

He wondered how different their life would be if she’d never been lost. If her blunt and no-nonsense attitude would have changed the exploration of including Sebastien in their relationships in any way.

He wanted to ask her so many things, but her silence after his first inquiries was a hint to shut up.

They landed in Laos, the three of them, Quynh said that had somewhere to stay for a few days after they’d reach. She didn't offer an explanation as to where, but Joe guessed that it would be close to Nicky for she would unmistakably want him and Nicolo to speak to one another. 

He was afraid that Nicolo would hurt Sebastien more than he had already been hurt. He knew that tempers would fly high and there was a high probability that Nicolo would say things he did not mean. That he, himself would say things he did not mean. He was scared. Scared in a way that he hadn’t been in nine centuries when he had given his heart to Nicolo. 

It was the first time that he and Nicolo had separated while at odds with each other, and he was apprehensive about seeing his lover again. 

He had never had the habit of biting his nails or playing with his cuticles. Or any of the other nervous tics that often plagued the human race, but his leg tapped lightly against the base of the car, and his index finger caressed, harshly, the peeling skin around his thumb.

He exhaled through his mouth, and he felt Booker’s gaze turn to him. His anxiety must have been palpable, but it was nothing compared to the pure terror exuding his lover’s form. 

-lex-

Nicky hadn’t expected Quynh to leave. No, that was a lie. He knew Quynh would leave. He just hadn’t expected her to leave so soon. To leave him in his grief so soon. 

Nicky hadn’t expected Quynh to come back either. No, that was a lie. He knew that Quynh would come back so soon. To bring pain that he didn't want to face with her so soon. 

The first thought that entered his mind was how dashing Yusuf looked. The second: how evident his anxiety was. How it exuded from his every pore. 

Nicolo kept his eyes off Sebastien. He did not want to look at the traitor’s face. Did not want to feel his presence. 

Quynh sipped away from the men, leaving them in an awkward sort of silence. 

Booker kept his gaze on the grass underfoot. He had no desire to observe Nicolo’s hatred, which would soon enough be reflected in Yusuf’s eyes. 

He had known in the past few weeks that he and Joe had shared that the tenderness, the serenity, the almost happiness, had been too good to last. That he had no - had nothing worth loving in his worthless body and life.

He turned silently and walked away, trying not to break the trance that Yusuf and Nicolo were entrapped in. 

He had no place among them. He was nothing to them. 

-lex-

Yusuf was torn between his desire to chase after Sebastien and knock some sense into him and speaking to his Nico. He decided against the former. He couldn’t leave, abandon, he realised, his Nicolo for a second time. 

He walked slowly towards his husband, palms outstretched beside his thighs, mind racing for the poetics that usually came so easily to him. 

He closed the distance and placed his palms on Nicolo’s cheeks, almost flinching at how cold they were under his ever warm hands. 

Faded brown eyes met ocean blue ones, the way sand meets the sea on a rocky shore. For all that he thought that he would say when he saw Nicky, he said nothing of those. All that was uttered, a single word, which encompassed the world of hurt, a want of familiarity. 

“Astaghfiruk.” I beg your forgiveness. The same word Nicolo had uttered right before they had kissed for the first time.

He hoped that Nicolo would hear the desperation in his voice and accept his plea. 

“Mi. Hai. Lasciato.” (You left me.) He replied, seething. “Per un sanguinario traditore.” (For a bloody traitor.)

“I didn't leave you. You left me. You made me choose. He’s in pain. Hurting. Even if you don't love him, you can't deny him the comfort of having someone to lean on. To rely on.” Yusuf paused, unsure of whether to bring up what he was going to say next, but he knew he had too. “You can't tell me that you wouldn't have liked some sort of love, comfort, or even a gentle hand on your shoulders in those first years that we travelled. You have to know that you wanted my forgiveness, and I, well, I was far too stubborn to give it.” He paused again, swallowed. “And I regret those years. I regret not giving my forgiveness, my love in those years, for those years that we could have shared are now lost to us. Forgive me, Nicolo, please. Forgive him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know when the next chapter will be up, but I hope it is sometime this week. Hope y'all enjoyed this!


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well as promised the chapter is up before the end of the week. Precisely 2.5 minutes before the end of the week my time... 😝
> 
> Also, I forgot to put this in the last chapter.
> 
> Thank you so much to Potato67 and Westlife 264 for letting me bounce ideas off of you. ❤️

Sebastien walked around the building they were at, till he was out of eyesight, but not out of earshot. In the moments of silence before Joe’s voice rang clearly, he took note of his surroundings. The building was stone. Had a medieval vibe to it, he supposed. It was an inn. 

“Astaghfiruk.” He didn't understand the true meaning of the word, but his rough Arabic told him that it had something to do with forgiveness. His heart clenched as he realised that it was because of him and his actions that Joe had to ask, no, beg, for Nicky’s forgiveness.

“Mi. Hai. Lasciato. Per un sanguinario traditore.” (You left me. For a bloody traitor.) Sebastien fell to his knees, the word traitor ringing in his ears. He had explained what had happened. They weren’t supposed to be taken. But that didn't change anything, did it? He was a traitor. He had betrayed them and his intentions didn't matter. 

“I didn't leave you. You left me. You made me choose. He’s in pain. Hurting. Even if you don't love him, you can't deny him the comfort of having someone to lean on. To rely on. You can't tell me that you wouldn't have liked some sort of love, comfort, or even a gentle hand on your shoulders in those first years that we travelled. You have to know that you wanted my forgiveness, and I, well, I was far too stubborn to give it. And I regret those years. I regret not giving my forgiveness, my love in those years, for those years that we could have shared are now lost to us. Forgive me, Nicolo, please. Forgive him.” None of what Yusuf had told Nicolo was a surprise to Sebastien. He’d known all of this. He had heard them reminisce over their early years too many times. Yusuf’s vivid descriptions of the way they had admitted that they loved each other. Neither of them had ever shared the details of their first kiss, or their first time together. And for that small mercy, he would be forever grateful. He had no desire to know how perfect it had been for them. How skilled either one or both of them had been at bringing pleasure to the other. Though he did know how skilled they were. Exactly how skilled they were. 

He rose, quickly, not wanting to give Nicky the chance to reply. He turned to the corner and was in their sight. He walked on shaky legs to them, needing to look Nicolo in the eye as he said what he was about to.

“Don't forgive me, Nicolo. I don't deserve that. But Joe, he loves you. That has always been an undeniable truth. His love for you is as much an integral part of his being as his own heart and mind. I’ll leave if that's what it takes. You’ll never see me again. Just forgive him.”

Nicolo’s eyes burned something furious. He could see the fire in them from the distance of the ten meters between them. From where he stood, out the corner of his eye, he saw Yusuf’s hands’ clench and his mouth open and close. 

Yusuf wanted to say something. Something that would convince Nicolo to forgive them both. But he knew that this was something that Sebastien and Nicolo had to solve. And he knew that Nicolo would never let Sebastien go.

Booker didn't hold Yusuf’s silence against him. He knew that Yusuf would do anything to be with Nicolo. After nine centuries together, their relationship was the most important thing to each other. And right now, he knew that Yusuf would do anything to attain Nicolo’s forgiveness. 

Finally, Nicolo spoke. And his words were not surprising. To Booker. 

“Leave. Never taint our lives with your presence again.” 

Booker nodded. Vision blurred, he glanced at Joe and nodded in farewell. It was not enough of a goodbye for the last time that they would see each other. 

He almost heard a ‘don't leave’ in Yusuf’s voice, but when he looked at him, Yusuf was looking at Nicolo with adoration in his eyes, not bothering to even look at him as he left.

-lex-

Nile and Andromache quickly made their way out of the airport at Lagos. 

Nile was excited. She had never been to Europe. Well other than Paris and London with the team, but according to her, that didn't count because she hadn’t had the chance to play tourist. They had spent the last few weeks in the Indian countryside, undisturbed by locals or visitors. 

Andromache hadn’t been to Portugal since she’d lost Quynh. It seemed fitting that she’d return to find her love. 

In the fifteenth century, they’d port directly in Aljezur before quickly making their way to their favourite inn. A rather nondescript one, but comfortable. 

She found Quynh right outside it. 

And when Andromache saw her, she saw nothing else. All her instincts, all the grace and power that she usually held in her being oozed out. She didn't know how she stayed upright, but she did. Until. Until she touched Quynh. 

-lex- 

Quynh thought that she wanted nothing to do with Andromache. Andromache had left her to rot under the water for five centuries. 

She had known that Andromache would not give up on her. What she didn't expect was that Yusuf and Nicolo would keep looking for her, even five centuries down the line. 

They didn't spend their whole lives looking for her. But honestly, she couldn't expect them too. It was far too much to ask. And she couldn't blame any of them, even, especially, Andromache for trying to live without her.

The moment she saw her love, the only thing that she wanted to say was, ‘Just you and me. Until the end.’ 

They had always said that right before going into battle. A vow that whatever the outcome, they’d be together. That no one else in the world mattered. 

She walked toward Andromache, unsteady in those stiletto heels she’d grown rather fond of. 

As she took her final step and was about to reach Andromache, she slipped. 

And Andromache caught her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope Y'all like this! Lemme know if there's anything you wanna see in the fic. I need ideas y'all


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here it is!!

Andromache shuddered and collapsed to her knees. Her hand on Quynh’s forearm meant that she too fell to her knees. 

“Agápi mou, lypámai.” (My love, I’m sorry.) Greek, the closest language to her mother tongue, was the only she could speak in. 

“Thither is nothing to forgive.” She replied, in the English that had been spoken when she had been taken. It had just slipped out of her mouth. She could speak the way people spoke in the current day and age, but, the words just slipped out. 

There was nothing more to be said between them for neither of them ever lied, and what they said was what they meant. There were no minced words in their past and both knew that that would hold true for their future. 

Quynh, rough as she was in battle, well that was how gentle she became when holding her Andromache. 

Then their lips met and nothing else mattered. 

-lex- 

When they finally got their fill of each other, they began speaking. Catching up. 

Andy told Quynh of every fashion style she could remember. But that was only one of the many things they spoke off.

Finally, Quynh asked, “Why have you allowed Yusuf and Nicolo to hurt Sebastien so?”

Andy took a sip of the mocktail she had ordered through room service. The non-alcoholic drink did nothing to help her face what she had to say. 

Good, she’d forgotten how piercing Quynh’s gaze was. How it felt as though she could see someone’s very soul through their eyes. 

“At first, I didn't realise. And when I did, I said nothing. I thought that they’d figure it out. I didn't think it would get this bad. And I also didn't think it was my place.”

“I saw so much of the world’s development through his eyes. He was my window into the world. But, did you know, Andromache, that these dreams, or visions, rather, allow us to feel the others’ emotions as well?” 

Andy sighed and nodded. 

“Then you should know that I preferred drowning to being in his mind. You have no idea, my love. No idea.” 

-lex-

“NICOLO!” Yusuf yelled. But before he could continue, Nicolo interrupted. 

“He gave me a choice, Yusuf. And you have one to make. Again. So, what will it be, Tesoro? Me or Booker?” 

Yusuf broke. His head hung down and his hands were loose at his side. His legs were shaky and knees weak. 

“I haven’t seen you this spiteful in a long, long time. It seems that you are holding on to anger for the sake of holding on to anger.”

“What if I am, Yusuf, do I not have a right to be angry? He hurt you, for fuck’s sake.” 

“He didn't- no Nicolo, listen to me. Kozak hurt us. Merrick hurt us. Copley hurt us. We hurt Booker. Not the other way around.”

Nicky rolled his eyes, attitude dripping from every word he spoke. “Pray tell, how did we hurt him.”

Sighing, Yusuf whispered half to himself, “If i have to say it…” Then he raised his voice, slightly, “We never told him we loved him. We let him believe that he was nothing to us.”

“That is-” 

“I am speaking, Nicolo!” He paused, his nostrils flaring, his teeth grinding. “Now you listen. I have heard you say, more times than I can count that you love Sebastien. That you feel that we are incomplete without him. Why are you doing this? Why are you being so angry, when it is obvious that you know that we hurt Sebastien, more, so much more than he hurt us?”

Finally, Nicolo realised what he had been hiding from himself all along. And he could not keep it hidden any longer.

“Because…” He groaned, the weight of his actions nearly crushing him. 

-lex- 

Nile had no interest in watching the romantic aspects of Andy and Quynh’s reunion. She was happy for them, ecstatic if she was honest, that was for sure, but she had no interest in watching them. So, she made herself scarce. 

She found a quaint little cafe and sat down there. It was something so pedestrian, so ordinary. Something she had missed in her months with the guard. 

The Old Guard. That was what she called their mismatched family in her head. 

The cafe had some computers available for public use.

She browsed the net. Something she hadn’t got the chance to do since, well, long before her death. 

The first thing she did was to search up her family’s Facebook accounts and see what they had been up too. It had been about four months since she’d died. 

Indus seemed to have said ‘I love you’ to his girlfriend. The post illustrating that was cheesy but cute. From what little she could gauge, he was dealing with it in a healthy way. He seemed normal, not looking like he had the effects of drinking too much or taking drugs. 

And for that she was glad. She had smoked weed, once. It had been getting more difficult financially, and her mother was working far too much. She had needed someone, but no one was there. It hadn’t taken long for her mother to notice, a week. And her mother had put an end to that. Her mother had told her that, no matter what was going on, she would always have time for Nile.

Nile picked up her phone and dialled the familiar digits of her mother’s number. 

For a split second before she pressed the call button she wondered about the possible repercussions. 

Then she heard her Mama’s voice. 

“Hello? Miranda speaking.” 

She couldn’t say anything. For months she wondered about what she would say if she could speak to her mother one last time, even going so far as to prepare a speech. But at that moment, all she could say was, “Mama. Mama, I love you.” 

‘Nile? Nile, is that you?” 

From behind her mother, she heard her brother’s voice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a comment and lemme know what y'all think!

**Author's Note:**

> Hope y'all liked it. Lemme know if there's any way in which I can improve!
> 
> I'm on Tumblr as Lexzandrihya


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